Mandelbrot

Between thought and action
and before we decide
there’s too much information
some truthful, some lies
and if we pick the wrong direction
choose a false destination,
don’t be surprised.

Moment tends to moment
from the moment we met
each stage like the edge
of the Madelbrot Set,
infinitely extendable
each word a small bet
each kiss some collateral
and each touch a bet.

The way may well lead
onto friendship, at best
and though the way seems clear enough,
each step is a test.
The path has potential
to spiral off at our feet
into infinite possibilities
and concentric repeats.

We’ll find ourselves somewhere
lost between stations:
world’s full of these slippery
chaotic equations
and I’ll not force the route
down which we might go
-in the Mandelbrot Set
you just never know.

15/7/98, Leicester.

—

Note: I’d pretty much forgotten about this poem but found it recently when clearing stuff out of my sister’s garage in Bath.